“’Tis exactly as I recall from my father,” Iain agreed. “Father suspected Jamie had killed her. Do ye ken why my father suspected that, Atholl?”
“Nay,” the older man replied. “Some say the seer who lived at the Fairy Pools had a vision of it when yer uncle tried to have his way with the seer so she told yer father. I dunnae ken the truth of it, though.”
“However it came to be that Father suspected Uncle Jamie, he told the king as much. The king was fiercely angry, and rather than kill Jamie, he thought it more fitting to banish him from the land he loved dearly. Robert said death was too good for Jamie as it would end his pain, but to live knowing he could never return to Scotland was a penance that would go on for years.”
“Uncle Jamie fled to England but after my father died and I became laird, he returned to Scotland and tried to invade Dunvegan, but he failed. He came again twice when Balliol took the throne with the help of the English king.” Iain fell silent, likely not wishing to say more for fear Marion would worry.
“If yer uncle has returned again, then surely ye ken he means to try to take back Dunvegan as he has done the other times,” Bridgette exclaimed.
Iain glared at her, then drew Marion to his side. “I ken it, but dunnae fash yerself, either of ye. He’ll nae ever succeed.”
“But he must have aid!” Marion said.
“Aye,” Iain agreed. “He’s nae so foolish as to return without aid, and since we dunnae ken who that is yet, we must ready ourselves as if we will be struck by a large army in the near future.”
A tense silence fell over the room as all present nodded their agreement and then discussion turned toward preparing for an invasion that may or may not ever come.
When Graham, Cameron, and the other MacLeod men departed to go to King David the next day, Lachlan eagerly excused himself after making his farewells so he’d not have to stand as audience to Bridgette offering a tearful farewell to Graham. Training the men for the possible battle with his uncle gave Lachlan a convenient but truthful reason to flee. As he made his way to the men awaiting his training, he spotted Helena, who had told him earlier that she had an aching head and intended to stay abed for most the day.
He’d known her excuse was just that, but he had assumed she simply wanted to avoid him. Yet now that he noted her creeping up the tower stairs, his pulse sped up. She glanced surreptitiously back, forcing him to scramble into an alcove near the top of the stairs to avoid being seen. Once he heard her fading footsteps, he crept out and followed her to the tower. After she went into the round room, he spied through the door as she opened chests, looked in all the pottery set about, and even got to her stomach to look under some of the window seats. He frowned, trying to determine what she could possibly be searching for. When she stood and dusted herself off with a mutter, then turned toward the door, he darted back toward the stairs to await her and follow her to wherever she might go next.
She came out soon after, moved past him without noticing him, and made her way back into the main castle. Much to his surprise, her next destination was Iain and Marion’s bedchamber. She paused in front of their door, knocked, and loudly called for them. When no one answered, she slowly opened the door, peered inside, and appeared to be ascertaining if she was alone. She dashed in, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her, and Lachlan moved silently toward the door and peered through the opening. Once again, she began a search for something, and after opening all the chests, trifling through Iain’s and Marion’s clothing, and then looking in every space she obviously could think of, she cursed and turned toward the door.
Lachlan moved silently back into the alcove at the top of the stairs. Helena came out of Marion and Iain’s room, and for the rest of the afternoon, she went from bedchamber to bedchamber of every member of his family. She ended her day with the sun fading in the sky at the cottage of Rory Mac, which Lachlan didn’t doubt she would have proceeded to search, but Alanna greeted her with a smile and a fussy baby.
Helena did not stay inside Alanna and Rory Mac’s home long, and when she left, Lachlan followed her back to the castle and watched her go into his bedchamber. He waited long enough that he hoped it was not obvious that he had followed her before he entered his room.
He stilled at the sight of her half-dressed and on his bed. Her clothes lay scattered on the ground around the bed, and he noted one of his chests that had been closed was now open.
“Helena, what are ye doing in here?” he asked, not having to instill surprise in his voice, as he was genuinely shocked to find her almost naked.
She blinked coyly at him, and anger pulsed through him. There was nae a doubt in his mind that Helena was here to find something. What that was, he could not imagine, but it was obvious she had decided the cold relationship they had both silently embraced was about to turn scorching as she attempted to seduce him to get what she was after, even if the seduction bound them for life.
As she scampered to her knees and slid her léine over her breasts to reveal them, he tensed, expecting a jolt of lust. She was a beautiful woman. Yet, he felt nothing but sharp dismay. He did not want her in the slightest. But how far would he have to take the deception to learn of her true intentions? Disgust filled him as his duty to his king and clan weighed heavy. An image of Bridgette filled his mind, hardening his body and sending an ache through him.
“Lachlan,” Helena purred. “I’m glad ye’re here. I’m afraid ye have gotten the idea that I dunnae wish to join with ye, so I’ve been waiting here all day to show ye how much I desire ye.” When he did not move, she frowned, her brow puckering, before she scrambled off the bed and walked across the room to him. She pressed her chest to his and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve been shy, as we dunnae ken each other that well, but if we are to truly have a future, let us join our bodies and our hearts. Do ye wish for that, Lachlan?”
“Oh, aye,” he lied while grasping her hands and unlacing her fingers before bringing her hands to her side. “I want that verra much.” He stepped away from her even as the falsehood spilled from his lips. “Sadly, I only came in here to retrieve my dagger. Iain wishes to have one made like it,” he finished, amazed at how quickly he had thought of that excuse.
Her lips formed a pout. “Surely yer brother can wait.”
“Nay,” Lachlan replied, retrieved his dagger, and faced her once again. He found himself annoyed that she had not yet covered herself, and he had to resist the urge to do it for her. “The dagger is to be a gift for the king, and Iain wishes to see mine before we dine. I will see ye in the great hall for supper.”
She nodded as a coy smile twisted her lips. “After supper, let us come to the bedchamber without lingering.”
He nodded, even as he tried to determine how he could uncover the information he needed without seducing her. He could take the seduction far without joining with her and binding himself to her for life, but he did not want to seduce her at all—not even one touch. “I will see ye at supper,” he said again before turning on his heel and heading to find Iain to speak with him. He went to Iain’s bedchamber but when no one answered the door, he made his way down to the great hall, and found it almost full. He’d been so distracted he had not realized how near supper it had gotten.
He moved toward the dais, thinking upon what Helena might be looking for, but as he searched out Iain, his eyes rested on Bridgette and his step faltered. She was resplendent in a soft-blue gown with a crown of white flowers in her hair. For a moment, her beauty stilled any further movement. She was talking animatedly to Marion, her hands gesturing wildly in the air. Marion asked Bridgette something, and she threw her head back to laugh, exposing the long, creamy column of her neck.
Lust seized his body like an army bent on destroying its enemy. He was helpless to fight off the need. It heated him and hardened him. When he finally managed to wrench his gaze from her, he found Iain watching him with raised brows and knowing eyes. He did not turn away from his brother’s probing stare. Silent acknowledgment passed between them. Lachlan was sure Iain had seen the battle raging inside him. He was also sure his brother would have words to say, though what to say in return defied him at the moment.
He strode toward the dais, and as he did, Bridgette glanced his way. Normally one to openly show her emotions on her face, it hit him like a blow to find veiled eyes staring almost through him. Had she somehow sensed his desire last night? He had thought he had managed to hide it fairly well, except for that one moment where the memory of her kiss had spilled out of him. He slowed when he got to the dais and took the only available seat, which put Bridgette directly to his left.
“Good evening, Lachlan,” she said politely.
When he sat, her smell of heather swirled around him, the heat of her body caressed him, and her husky tone tortured his already hard, yearning body. “Why are ye sitting at the dais?” he growled in his need for her, making him surly.
“Marion invited me to sit in Graham’s seat, but if ye prefer I move…”
